


Hello Again

by DraketheDragon



Series: Saberiri week [1]
Category: Fate/Apocrypha, Fate/Grand Order, Fate/Zero, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: A Bit of Fluff, Darnic don't exist, Erh, F/F, Greater Holy Grail War AU?, Poor Y i can't spell their name people, Saberiri week is up!, and cu, anyway, have fun?, i blame bazett, neither does Astolfo's master, really its a drabble, so . . . uh . . . angst, they didn't get who they were expecting, whooo hoooo!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 19:01:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30060078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DraketheDragon/pseuds/DraketheDragon
Summary: A tug in her center, so familiar. A Summoning. For a moment her heart lifted. A Summoning, that meant a chance at the grail, the chance to rectify these wrongs. She pushed herself up, glancing around at the fallen.“I promise.”Then she was gone.
Relationships: Irisviel von Einzbern/Arturia Pendragon | Saber
Series: Saberiri week [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2211486
Comments: 10
Kudos: 13





	Hello Again

**Author's Note:**

> Hello wonderful people! Happy Saberiri week! Prompt for today was Heartbreak | Lost and Found / Reunion, and I chose Reunion! Hope you enjoy and have a great day!

Camlann was as it always was, bloody red sky and hill of bodies. A sea of swords and broken armor. Mordred’s blank eyes watched her from where he lay in a pool of blood. Artoria sat back on her heels, staring at the cloudy sky, the swirls of orange and red and darker shadows. She closed her eyes and sucked in a harsh breath. The air carried that tang. One of iron. Of blood. Of fear.

She closed her eyes to block out the sight, but the sounds rose in her ears. The clang of battle, furious yelling. _“F — father.”_ Her eyes snapped open again. Her fault, her fault. If only she had been a better king, if only she had understood, if only, if only, if only, if only — Her voice caught in her throat. She might have cried if she had any tears left. Her eyes burned. Her cheeks stung.

She should have never been king.

A tug in her center, so familiar. A Summoning. For a moment, her heart lifted. A Summoning, that meant a chance at the grail, the chance to rectify these wrongs. She pushed herself up, glancing around at the fallen. 

“I promise.”

Then she was gone.

. . .

Her feet hit stone, intricately carved. She could feel the mana swirl around her, wild and dangerous. Powerful. Her armor clicked into place. She drove Excalibur's tip into the stone and opened her eyes, familiar words rising to her lips. She froze before she spoke, the world tipping around her. 

There were seven people in front of her, not the customary one. The man in front of her was pudgy, short, blond. He stumbled back. His blue eyes were very wide. “That's — that’s not Siegfried!”

Around him were other mages. A woman in a wheelchair, a man with a startlingly similar resemblance standing beside her. A golden haired child. An older lady. A thin black haired man. A woman in a suit with purple-red hair. And around Artoria, Servants. She could feel their presences burning in the back of her mind.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?!”

Artoria spun around, bringing Excalibur to bear. There was a man there, red cape and butt cloak. He was staring at a blue clothed, blue haired man with a red spear tossed over his shoulders in horror. Lancer, he had to be Lancer, scowled back at him. “Me? I could say the same thing to you, asshole. What the hell are you doing here?”

The red clad man growled, opened his mouth to speak. Someone else’s voice cut over him, bright and delighted. “Artoria!” 

Artoria spun around again, heart kicking in her chest. Her gaze swept past the pink haired person, past the tall girl in the white dress, past the man in the red hood, and landed on the woman. Her hair draped in a white wave past her waist. The sleeves of her intricate robes hung down to the floor, brushing against the stone. There was a crown on her head, white trimmed with gold. Her eyes were wide, focused on Artoria. Brilliant, blazing red, like ruby’s shining under light. 

Excalibur dropped from her grip. It clanged against the floor. She took a step forward, arm raised. Impossible. This had to be impossible. Perhaps this was a dream. “Irisviel.”

Then Irisviel was running out of her own summoning circle. Her hands wrapped around Artoria’s neck, her cheek pressed against Artoria’s own. Real. This was real. No dream could recreate Irisviel’s slightly chilly skin. No dream could recreate the smell of Irisviel’s hair, the flood of lavender to her nostrils. She turned her head and buried her nose into the silken strands, wrapped her arms around Irisviel’s waist. Real and solid and here.

With Irisviel pressed against her, suddenly Camlann seemed a distant dream.

**Author's Note:**

> tbh . . . this is an idea I might write fully in the future lol


End file.
